


a matter of confidence

by hiriki



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: (i'm sorry all i ever write is disgusting FLUFF), Awkward Crush, Ethari is a ball of anxiety, First Love, Fluff, Lain is the awkward jock friend, M/M, Misunderstandings, Runaan has a hard time with Feelings, Teenage Drama, everyone is awkward and a bit dumb maybe, ruthari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22582621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiriki/pseuds/hiriki
Summary: In which young Ethari has a small breakdown over several broken blades, and young Runaan doesn't understand what's happening inside his teenage heart (he might just be too cool for this "feelings" stuff). Also featuring a very concerned mentor, and a best friend who doesn't quite know when to shut up.
Relationships: Ethari & Runaan (The Dragon Prince), Ethari/Runaan (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 135





	a matter of confidence

“Master Asha, I don’t think I’m suited for this.”

Asha’s hammer stopped inches away from the thin blade she was working on. She lifted a brow at her apprentice.

“Whatever you’re babbling on about?”

“Well, it’s…” Ethari sighed. “It’s my blades. The ones I’ve made. They’re bad.”

“They’re bad, you say.” Asha sighed. “And whatever gave you this idea?”

From the way Ethari twisted his hands on his lap, Asha could tell she was in for a long speech. That was just the way Ethari was — some days he wouldn’t speak at all, content on working in silence beside her and learning from her. Other days, he would talk a little about this and that. And, very rarely, he would go on the longest rant about the smallest of things that a moonshadow elf could ever care about.

The heat of the nearby forge pushed against her neck, and the woman nearly groaned. Who knew it could be so difficult to deal with a fifteen year-old apprentice?

“Well, you see, there’s this guy-”, he cleared his throat rapidly, “-he’s about my age, I think, and he’s one of the new Assassins? Anyway, he came to the forge and asked for a new blade, because his old one probably got stuck in some dead human or whatever, I mean, how would I know? And, see, I told him you weren’t in the forge, but he insisted it would be fine if I just made him a new one, that he would pay us all the same. And I told him I was just an apprentice, but he said it was fine! I guess he was in a hurry to get a new blade, maybe? I thought it was weird, and I didn’t want to do it, but then I kinda felt bad for him? He was so insistent about it! But he wouldn’t look me in the eye, you know, like he was up to no good, I mean, of course he was, he’s an Assassin! But then I thought-”

“Ethari.”

“Yes?”

“Is there a point to all of this?” Asha groaned at her own somewhat harsh words. “Sorry. Your master is old, and tired. Perhaps you could give me the abridged version of the facts?”

“You’re not mad that I sold a blade to a client behind your back?”

“You did _what?_ ” Asha nearly choked, but held her composure when she saw her apprentice flinch away from her. “…No. I’m not mad. But don’t make a habit of it. What was this Assassin’s name?”

“I don’t know! He just ran away very fast when I said I’d craft him a blade.” Ethari said. “I didn’t even know how I was supposed to deliver him a blade, but then he stopped by a few days later, during your lunch time, and I just gave him the blade. He just… he didn’t say a thing. Just looked at me and went away with the blade…”

“Right. Amazing.” Asha nodded, and returned her attention to the half-forged blade in her hands. “And what does that have to do with you thinking you’re not suited to steel craftsmanship?”

“Well, he came back, like, two days later? You were out shopping. Sorry for… not telling you.” Ethari’s ears blushed slightly, but his Master ignored him and kept hammering at her blade. “Anyway, he came back because his blade broke. In half. I don’t know why. I made it just like you taught me to! It shouldn’t have broken like that.”

“Did he tell you what happened to the blade?”

“I asked him! But he said he couldn’t because it was confidential.” Ethari rolled his eyes in annoyance. “I just fixed his blade and handed it back to him. It didn’t take long because I wasn’t really doing anything, so he just paid me and went on his way. But then he came back again. Two days later. Handed me the blade. It was broken _again_.”

“No.” Asha said gravely, in mock shock.

“Yes!” Ethari was too wrapped up in his own tale to notice his teacher’s humorous tone. “At this point I was really confused, because, well, I know I’m not as good as you, but you always tell me I’m doing a good job…”

“Because you are.”

“Right! But then this guy comes out of nowhere and keeps destroying what I make…” Ethari lowered his shoulders. “I fixed it. He paid me.He left-”

“-And he came here again with a broken blade, a few days later.” Asha completed his sentence for him.

“Master! How did you know?” Ethari blinked at her.

“I told you, I’m old. And tired. I’m good at reading your mind.” She shrugged. “Has it occurred to you that this little whelp might just be really bad with a blade?”

“I… I thought so, too, but he’s an Assassin… and then the other day, I saw him at the outskirts of the village, training with some other students…”

“…And he asked you for another blade, because he accidentally sat on his own and crushed it?”

“No! Master, that’s horrible.” Ethari chastised her, but there was a slight tremble tugging at the corners of his mouth. “He didn’t see me. He was busy training. His form was… good. Elegant, I suppose. And all the other Assassins… everyone else was looking at him with such admiration. There were even some adults there! I wasn’t close enough to hear them, but they all seemed to be in awe of him.”

“And so were you.” Asha grinned at her apprentice and waved her hammer lightly at him.

“No! I mean, maybe? He looked cool?” Ethari fumbled with his words and shook his head. “But my point is- it can’t be his fault! He’s good at what he’s doing, obviously-”

“Obviously,” Asha said in mock agreement.

“-And so it has to be me!” Ethari said. “You even said I wasn’t supposed to sell my crafts yet, right? You said I still had a lot to learn. I think you were right. I was so _stupid_ to-”

“I was right, yes,” Asha said, and ignored the incandescent blade completely as her gloved hands grasped Ethari by his shoulders, as gently as she could muster, “but you must not call yourself stupid, or think that you’re unworthy of your craft. You’re my apprentice. You’re leaning. That’s all you’re supposed to do.”

“Yes, but I went behind your back and sold a bad blade… I’ve ruined the workshop’s reputation…”

Asha snorted.

“If I didn’t manage to ruin this workshop’s reputation after accidentally sniffing some very bad herbs and puking my guts all over the street as I sang to invisible fairies, I’m sure you didn’t manage to do it with one single blade.”

“But what if I did…”

Asha sighed at the sight of her apprentice. Under the fading sunlight, he looked small and helpless, and she was suddenly very much aware of the fact he was still a child, and something that might have seemed ridiculous or inconsequential to her could certainly be the worst of torments for him. She was no motherly nature spirit, but she’d be damned if she would let some Assassin kid make Ethari feel bad about himself in such a way.

“You know what I like about you, Ethari?” She blurted out without thinking.

“…What?”

“You’re quiet. You’re diligent. And you’re good at what you do.” She ruffled his hair. “You didn’t earn this apprenticeship because you were nice to me or because your parents begged me to take you in, you earned it because you deserved it. It’s as simple as that. And I’m going to have a talk with this stinky boy of yours.”

Ethari’s face shifted into a mask of pure horror.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’? I can’t have you moping around thinking you’re some worthless—”

“Well you can’t just _talk_ to him!” Ethari nearly screamed, which was highly unusual of him. “What if— What if he thinks I talked about him to you and—”

“Well, you did.”

“But not— not because I wanted you to—” Ethari’s ears were bright red with embarrassment. “Master, please…”

“We won’t talk about you. I just want to know what’s his deal. He can’t just come in behind my back and ask for things.”

Ethari pressed his lips into a thin line and said nothing for a long time, and the fading heat of the forge peppered his forehead with goosebumps. Rooted in place as he was, tiny and rebellious, he seemed entirely different from the quiet, obedient apprentice that Asha had come to respect and cherish.

“If you talk to him, I’m never coming back here.” Ethari said in the smallest voice. “I’m moving away to Lux Aurea, or some other place. I’ll cut off my ears and pretend to be a human somewhere!”

He then stormed out in a very non-Ethari way.

Asha blinked, alone in her workshop.

_Teenager drama_ , she thought to herself with an impending sense of dread.

Now more than ever, she needed to find this mysterious elf that was causing her apprentice so much grief.

* * *

It was Lain’s enthusiastic hand wave that caught Runaan’s attention first. He dropped his stance and raised an inquisitive brow at the other elf.

Lain gestured yet again, this time silently urging for his friend to come over. With a resigned groan, Runaan dropped his blade on the grass and walked towards him.

“What? I’m training.”

“I know! But you’ll want to hear this.” Lain grinned. Under the soft sunset of Xadia, he looked even younger than he was. “I think your crush noticed you.”

If Runaan was stronger, taller and wiser — as he surely would become, some day —, he’d have immediately buried Lain’s head under several layers of soil, for bringing up that forbidden topic in broad daylight. At his current age and size, however, Runaan was only able to let out an indignant scoff and ignore the warmth that crept up his neck.

“I do _not_ have a crush.”

“Yeah, alright, alright.” Lain rolled his eyes. “Asha was asking about you.”

“…Who’s Asha? You’re not making any sense.”

“The master craftswoman! You know, Ethari’s teacher.” Lain gestured impatiently. “She didn’t seem to know your name, but she kept asking about some ‘boy Assassin’ who kept visiting the forge while she was away and bothering her apprentice, so I can only imagine she meant you.”

Runaan bit his lip and lowered his eyes to the grass.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to bother him.” He seemed to recompose himself very quickly, and shot a serious look at his friend. “What did she say?”

“Well, it seems you went over there, like, what, four or five times in a week? And she wanted to know why you kept breaking your blade? Of course, I wasn’t able to help because my _dear best friend_ refuses to talk to me about the guy he likes, and I didn’t know about any of this stuff,” Lain elbowed him lightly, and it was Runaan’s turn to roll his eyes as Lain went on, “and when she kept pestering me to tell her your name so she could have a chat with you, I just had to lie and say I didn’t know who she was talking about. Which, by the way, isn’t really a lie, because I couldn’t be sure if it was really you until I talked to you, because my _dear best friend_ won’t tell me a _thing_ —”

“Yes, you are upset and you never tell lies, I get it.” Runaan sighed. “Was there… anything else? Did she say what, exactly, am I doing wrong by just visiting the forge…?”

“I dunno,” Lain shrugged, “seems you made him feel less confident about his craft or something. Artsy people are like that, I guess?”

“But I…” Runaan faltered, and his facial expression shifted as he was overpowered by the dread of his realization. “Oh, no. …I have to talk with him, don’t I.”

“I would assume so.” Lain nodded patiently. “Unless you’re okay with the idea of being the one responsible for a lifelong trauma that will haunt him until the end of his days and eventually consume him until—”

“I get it! I get it. Shut up.” Runaan muttered. Lain watched with a twisted sense of amusement as his friend paced around, his blade and thoughts of training now forgotten somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind. “…This is bad. I-I’m not ready for… this.”

“What? To have a chat with him? You know you’d have to do that eventually, right?”

“Easy for you to say,” Runaan all but growled. “You love talking to people. You’re good at it. And I’m… just…”

“What? Mysteriously handsome? Devilishly quiet?” Lain winked at his friend playfully, but Runaan was not amused. “Oh, c’mon. Look, you know him better than I do, what with all the stalking and skulking about—”

“I’m not a stalker! Shut up already!”

“—but from what I’ve seen, he’s a pretty quiet guy, too. I think he might like you! He’d certainly prefer you over some loud, generic dude.”

“Like you.” Runaan lifted a brow at him.

“Ouch! Hey, I’m your best friend!” But Lain was grinning. “Look, it’ll be fine. And hey, I’m here for you. Tiadrin, too. In fact, we’ll both kick his ass if he’s rude to you.”

Runaan frowned.

“I wouldn’t let you hurt him like that.”

“ _Aww_. Look at you. Who knew someone would be able to melt that grumpy face— ouch! Ouch!” Lain had to dodge Runaan’s sudden attempts at hitting him in the gut. With Runaan’s default deadpan expression, it was hard to tell when he actually meant to hurt or not. “Okay, okay, point taken! No need to kill me. Just… talk with him. It’ll be fine. …And if it isn’t—”

“You _won’t_ hurt him.”

“I wasn’t gonna say that!” Lain stifled a laugh. “Lighten up, will you? He might like you better with a smile.”

“Didn’t ask for your input.” Runaan bent down and retrieved his blade, then walked towards the village with large, brisk steps. “I’m going now.”

“What? _Now?_ ”

“Yes, now, Lain.” Runaan sighed. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. Right. Wow.” Lain blinked as he watched his friend’s back. “You’re so brave. If it was me, I’d just freak out for hours. Like, _hours_. By the moon, I’m so lucky Tiadrin doesn’t have a crush on you.”

“Lain?”

“Yes?”

“Do shut up.”

* * *

The forge was empty and quiet when Runaan climbed the wooden steps on the entrance, and his breath hitched a little.

It took Runaan a short while to notice that there was a major flaw in his plan of action: he had no idea where Ethari could be, at that particular hour of the day. Sure, he could keep running around aimlessly around the village and trying to discern Ethari’s fluffy hair from the surrounding elves, but not only would that make him seem a tad too desperate, it would also mean admitting to himself that he was, in fact, very much desperate to talk with Ethari. Which wasn’t a reality that Runaan’s heart was quite ready to accept just yet.

He kept his feet rooted on the forge’s entrance, staring at the empty crafting tables and the piles of metal trinkets and battle equipment. As he was about to consider just sitting there for an eternity and wallowing in quiet, adolescent misery, a familiar voice called from behind and sent a small chill up his spine.

“Oh, sorry, we’re closed for the day. Do you need anything?”

Runaan spun around on his feet, too fast to make it seem natural, and mentally cursed at himself as he witnessed Ethari’s neutral expression shift towards surprise.

“Oh! I didn’t know…” Ethari’s eyes danced away from him. “…Sorry. I didn’t recognize you from this angle. Your hair…”

“My hair?” Runaan inquired after an uncomfortable moment of silence.

“Y-yes! It’s, um, very long, so I didn’t, um, recognize you.” Ethari cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you had such long hair. Sorry.”

“…Yes. It is kinda long, I suppose.” Runaan said. How in heavens Ethari still managed to look cute while stumbling around the simplest words, he would never care to know. “I need to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Ethari blinked and shifted on his feet. “Did something happen with your blade again…?”

“No!” Runaan all but yelled, then bit his lip. “…No. The blade is… good. Very good. I like it a lot.”

“Oh. I’m… glad to know.” Ethari said, and Runaan could swear he turned just a tad pinker than normal. “Wait. My master— Master Asha didn’t ask you to say that to me, did she?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Runaan said bluntly.

“You don’t know Master Asha? But she— she’s our best craftswoman! I thought everyone in the village knew about her. She accepted me as her apprentice last summer, and I’m—” Ethari stopped himself and offered Runaan a sheepish smile. “…Sorry. You didn’t come here to hear about that.”

“I don’t mind it.” Runaan said, almost too fast, as his heart hammered in his ears. “I’m— I’m not very good at talking, but I don’t mind listening”. _To you_ , he added in his mind.

“That’s funny. Master Asha says the same about me.” Ethari smiled again, and Runaan wanted nothing more than to run into the sun screaming. “That reminds me, I don’t think I’ve ever asked for your name… I’m sorry. If you don’t mind, I’d like to know—”

“Runaan,” came the anxious response. “My name is Runaan.”

“Oh. Well, hi, Runaan.” Ethari beamed at him yet again. It was almost too much for Runaan. “I’m Ethari.”

Reflecting that he could come off as a weird creep if he admitted he already knew that much, Runaan simply gave him a nod. Ethari kept looking at him expectantly, and Runaan eventually remembered that he was the one who had said he needed to talk with Ethari.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Runaan said, holding the other boy’s gaze. “About the blades.”

“Oh. What do you mean?”

“I broke them,” Runaan said. “On purpose.”

The words were followed by a long stretch of silence, only occasionally interrupted by the distant screech of a bird or the faint sounds of conversation from a passerby. The heat of the afternoon seemed to grow stronger on Runaan’s neck, and he wondered if he had made a mistake by being honest.

“On… purpose?” Ethari blinked. The smile was long gone from his face. “…Why?”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” Runaan said, once again too fast for his own good. He breathed in, and tried to explain himself as best as he could. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it was selfish of me to do it and it did hurt you in the end. For that, I’m very sorry. I couldn’t think of any other excuses to— talk to you. I thought you would think I was annoying or weird if I just talked to you out of nowhere. So I just… kept, um, breaking them. I thought about asking for other pieces of equipment instead, but that would be a bit too expensive for me, and I know you mostly work with blades at the moment, so it would be pointless. …Honestly, it was a terrible idea. I’m very sorry.”

A steady breath of air he didn’t know he was holding came out of Runaan’s lips as soon as he was done talking. Ethari, however, did not move a muscle, and just kept staring at him, his eyes as unreadable as deep pools of water. That was when Runaan’s palms started sweating, and he considered now would be a good time to change his name and move to a far away village, where no one would know about him or his shameful deeds.

“I understand if you’re very upset with me,” Runaan added in a slightly desperate tone. He didn’t think he had ever talked that much before. “I’m not asking you to forgive me. It’s okay. I’ll just— go.”

“Was it difficult?” Ethari blurted out.

“…What?” Runaan held his gaze in stunned confusion.

“Breaking the blades. Was it difficult?”

“Oh. Well, yes.” Runaan felt his neck warm up. “I— I couldn’t do it by myself. I asked Tiadrin for help, and we still couldn’t do it. Oh, Tiadrin is my friend, by the way. She’s not stronger than me or anything like that, I just thought it would increase our chances if two people tried it. In the end, I had to ask for our instructor’s help. He didn’t know why we wanted to break my blade, but we convinced him to show us how to do it. The second time, I had to ask my father. The third time…”

Runaan stopped himself once he noticed that Ethari was, in fact, laughing. It wasn’t a loud, booming laughter; he covered his mouth with one of his hand, as if desperately trying to keep it to himself, but kept bursting into small fits of laughing and giggling, his shoulders shaking with the effort. A single tear was nestled on the corner of his left eye, and he looked absolutely delighted.

To the abyss with it, Runaan thought. Lain was right. He _did_ have a crush. A crippling, massive crush that made him say stupid things and stare in awe at Ethari as he melted into innocent laughter.

“I’m— I’m sorry,” Ethari eventually gasped, the ghost of a smile still playing on his lips. “I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just— I was so nervous, and anxious, but it was all so silly! _You_ are so silly!”

“I’m sorry for making you feel anxious,” Runaan said, ignoring his deafening heartbeat.

“Well, it’s okay. I was the one worrying about it and assuming things.” Ethari’s ears then turned a little red, and he avoided Runaan’s gaze very intently. “Um. I’m sorry about calling you silly just now. That was a bit rude.”

Runaan shook his head.

“I don’t mind. I also think I’m silly.” Mostly around Ethari only, but still.

“Just a little bit, then.” Ethari grinned. He looked incredibly pleased with himself, and Runaan wished he could feel that way forever. “By the way, I wouldn’t think you were being annoying or weird if you just talked to me. But I don’t blame you for it. I’m also a bit shy, and I have a hard time talking to new people most of the time.”

“I’m not shy,” Runaan protested. He didn’t know what point he was trying to make, but he felt he had to retain some modicum of dignity.

“Alright.” Ethari kept grinning, maddeningly. “So I can call you silly, but not shy.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not true.” Runaan was nearly pouting. “I’m not shy.”

“Then prove it.”

_Oh, no_ , Runaan thought. It was a challenge. And Runaan loved challenges.

When the person he was very much into challenged him — well, that was just enough to make him want to scream for a few years, maybe. Very quietly. In his mind.

Runaan stepped towards Ethari, his head very much empty aside from very primitive thoughts of how Ethari’s eyes could hardly hold his own gaze, and how the sunlight caught on Ethari’s hair and eyelashes— oh no, he was close enough to see Ethari’s _eyelashes_? This was bad. This was, in fact, terrible. Lain would make fun of him, forever. And Runaan would deserve every minute of it.

Being so wrapped up in his own thoughts, Runaan failed to notice a myriad of other small things, like how Ethari’s breath hitched a little when Runaan stepped forward, and how Ethari himself leaned forward just a bit, seeking a touch he didn’t seem to quite understand yet. He was impossibly close now, and Runaan grew far too aware of his lips, and how unnaturally good he smelled, how easy it would be to just—

“Hang out,” Runaan babbled loudly, in an exceptional display of eloquence and no brain function. “We should— hang out. One of these days.”

“Ah.” Ethari blinked, and blushed profusely, as if only then his mind had caught up with the rest of his body. He let out a nervous sound, then stepped backwards very fast. “Um. Yeah. D-definitely.”

“Yes.” Runaan nodded.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

And then they just stood there, only a few feet apart. Runaan was suddenly very interested in the way the grass accommodated his boots, and how exceptionally good his knuckles looked that afternoon. Wow, did that beetle just fly a little bit? Amazing. Nature was amazing.

“I wasn’t going to—”

“I’m sorry I—”

They blurted out the words at the same time, and stopped at the same time as well, all the while exchanging a wide-eyed glance that only Runaan was able to hold in the end. Ethari let out an awkward chuckle and seemed to grow a little small, as if in an attempt to be swallowed by the surrounding vegetation.

It would be the perfect moment for Runaan to just… walk away, and never think about any of that again. About how ridiculous he might have looked, how desperate and pathetic. But Runaan knew he was brave. He was the best of his class. He could climb trees better than a pack of squirrels. And he could _definitely_ ask Ethari out.

“Tomorrow, after you’re done with work,” Runaan said.

“What?”

“I want to take you somewhere,” Runaan said, then added, only a bit awkwardly: “And talk. Only if you want to, that is.”

“…That sounds nice,” Ethari said, the softest of smiles playing on the corners of his lips.”Tomorrow, then.”

“Right,” Runaan nodded.

He stared at Ethari, and Ethari stared back at him.

“Goodbye, then,” Ethari said, and strode forward a bit too fast, past Runaan.

Something warm and rough — not unlike the calloused fingers of someone used to all sorts of craftsmanship — brushed against Runaan’s hand, very much on purpose. And then Ethari was gone.

It took Runaan a few moments to realize what had just happened — and when he did, his chest felt like it would burst into a million stupid butterflies.

‘Tomorrow’ couldn’t come fast enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I only write fanfiction once every fifty years, but when I do it -has- to be disgusting tooth-rotting fluff that no one asked for
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this!! I've been meaning to write *something* about these two for a long while now, but I couldn't come up with any fresh ideas?? Being the very professional writer that I am, I then decided to just sit down and write whatever. And this was born! I'm actually a little proud I was able to finish it :') please let me know your thoughts on it! I'm always very grateful for any kind of support, y'all have no idea how it warms my heart to know someone enjoyed reading my stuff! Thanks again! <3 I'll probably write more disgusting ruthari fluff soon!


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